I mean, of course I told Gilbert that I was going to you, but not where you were.' Thyrza, after a short pause, asked very quietly: 'How is Gilbert, Lyddy ?' 'He seems pretty well, dear.' 'Has he--has he felt it very hard ?' She kept her eyes veiled, and pressed her head closer to Lydia's shoulder.
'He's had a great deal to go through, dear.' The touch of severity in Lydia's voice came of her thoughts turning to Egremont.

But Thyrza felt herself judged and rebuked; she trembled.
'What is he doing ?' she asked, in a voice barely audible.
'He goes to work, as usual.

It's a new place.' 'Poor Gilbert Oh, I'm sorry for him! He never deserved this of me.
Lyddy,' she added in a whisper, 'it makes you so cruel to other people when you love anyone.' Lydia found no answer.

She was gazing through the open window, but saw nothing of sea or sky.

She, then, did not know what it was to love?
Well, love is of many kinds.
'But I was going to say something, Lyddy,' Thyrza pursued, when a kiss upon her hair assured her that from one at all events there was no need to ask forgiveness.